Photograph
by UnOriginalOne
Summary: 'Look at this photograph, every time I do it makes me laugh...'


Title: Photograph

Author: UnOriginalOne

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise

Summary: 'Look at this photograph, every time I do it makes me laugh…'

Photograph

'_Look at this photograph, every time I do it makes me laugh…'_

The room looks like a bombsite. I can't believe the damage that fifty teenagers have managed to inflict on our home. Plants that usually stood upright in the corners of the room have been tipped on their sides, dirt pooling on to the white tiles beneath them. Striding over to the first plant I return it to its correct position, moving onto the next one quickly, ignoring the throbbing in my head. Shuffling over to the mantle piece, I lean down to pick up the wooden frames that lie on the tiles in front of our wooden sideboard. I carefully collect the pictures and place them on the coffee table, assessing them for damage. Two haven't survived, and a small amount of glass is mixed with the broken liquor bottles that scatter the area. 'Shit,' I mutter. I knew I shouldn't have let my boyfriend convince me to have a party while my parents were away. And the proof of my stupidity was in front of me. Sighing, I begin to remove the photos from their damaged frames, pushing the remains of the broken wood and glass to one side. Holding the photographs in my hands I run my finger across the glossy surface of the one sitting on top. The image in my hands is a familiar one, the six of us last Christmas. Mum, Dad, my older step-brother Ryan, his mother Maxine, myself and my younger brother Jamie, we'd spent the holiday together in Cairns, enjoying a quiet lunch at the almost deserted Esplanade Lagoon. Casting the picture aside, I pick up the other picture, one of a set of professional photos Mum ordered a few years earlier. I remember the day well, she'd insisted we all dress respectably, and Ryan was in town for the occasion. I can remember my excitement at seeing my older brother again; he lived in Darwin at that time and rarely had the opportunity to come to Cairns. We'd spent hours in the studio being posed in every conceivable position and by the end of the ordeal I was over it. The picture in my hands though, was one of my favourites; showing just us kids, Jamie was sitting on a small block, I was diagonally behind, sitting slightly higher, and Ryan was standing in the small space between us. Setting the picture down on the table, I stand up and head into the kitchen to collect a black garbage bag and a brush and shovel to collect all the shards of broken bottles. Coming back over to the fireplace I lean down, sweeping up the glass and depositing it into the bag. Looking under the coffee table, I spot a book I've never seen before. I can see the gaps where a number of photos have been stuck to the pages, although it still appears to be mostly empty. Dropping my cleaning implements to the ground, I pull out the book, running my finger along the black cover. Shifting back to the couch, I open the first page, finding a message written in loopy script,

_Mike, Kate._

_For the past, present, and future…_

_Nikki._

Flipping past the inscription, I stop at the first page. The cardboard behind the photograph is green, a beautiful coloured image stuck to the page. The photograph depicts a couple sitting on the grassy edge of what I assume to be a river. Tree covered hills formed the backdrop, and a sliverof blue sky could be seen above. In the foreground, there were two people. The man sat behind the young woman, his arms wrapped around her waist. Her hands rested on top of his, their gaze focused squarely on each other. They both looked so happy, so carefree. Scrutinizing the image carefully, I try to place the date of the picture. Mum and Dad look so much younger than other photos I've seen of them together, scanning the page further I finally locate the date when this image was snapped.

_Sydney, April 2002_

It was a beautiful Autumn day. The sun had climbed high and was blazing warmth across the city. The couple walked along the rivers edge, taking in the peaceful scenery, their hands clasped together, the gesture welcomed after being kept at a professional distance for so many days. The young woman smiled up at her companion, pausing in her stride to caress his lips intimately. Ducking her head shyly, she looked away, trying in vain to control the butterflies that were fluttering uncontrollably in her stomach. Seeing her obvious embarrassment, Mike lifted her head up, their eyes meeting, electricity shooting between them. Taking her by the hand, Mike sat her down on a patch of grass, slipping his body behind hers. His strong arms encircling her tiny waist, she turned her head to look up at him again. No words were exchanged as their lips were drawn closer, fusing together as each fought for domination. Pulling back, Mike spoke huskily, 'If we don't stop now, I won't be held responsible for my actions…' A proud smile appeared on Kate's face, feeling his obvious need against her back. Shifting slightly to tease him a little more, he let out a loud groan, 'Not helping Kate,' he whispered, his warm breath tickling her ear. Moaning at the sensation, she pressed a wet kiss to his jaw. Diverting her attention away from the man behind her, Kate began searching through the ridiculously oversized handbag she carried. Eventually she located her desired item, pulling a brick-like camera from the bag and showing it to the confused man behind her. Pressing the power button, the item whirred to life, a chime announcing it was ready to be used. 'Smile,' Kate said, lining the camera up to fit them both in. Clicking the button to capture the image, she waited until the flashes had stopped before she turned the camera around, checking the picture she just took. Laughing, she showed Mike. She'd managed to cut half their faces off. Resetting the camera, she continued her attempts to capture the perfect photograph. Five attempts later, she'd all but given up. 'Excuse me?' a woman's voice asked, 'Would you like me to?' she gestured to the camera in Kate's hand.

'Do you mind?' Kate asked, freeing herself from Mike's grip.

'Not at all.' Now standing next to the woman, Kate gave her a rundown on how to use the camera before returning to her position in Mike's arms. His arms wound back around her and he captured her lips in an intimate kiss. The woman snapped the image, and then waited patiently for the pair to separate. Separating, the couple turned their attention to the woman with the camera, smiling happily as she photographed the pair, handing the camera back to Kate when she was finished. Scrolling through the pictures Kate smiled happily, 'Thank you.'

'No problem, enjoy your day.' The woman disappeared as quickly as she'd arrived, leaving the pair alone once again.

'This is my favourite,' Kate declared, showing him the picture in question.

The following page contains another photo of a younger couple. Stuck to a blue background, this shot is a close-up; only two heads fill the paper. A hint of a tartan rug can be seen in the top corners. Her blonde hair hangs over her shoulders and is slightly mussed, as if his fingers had been running through it only moments before. His head rests in the crook of her neck. Their cheeks looked flushed and given the date in the top corner of the page, it can't have been due to the heat of the day. There is an intimacy between the couple that alludes to the nature of the relationship; his eyes are slanted towards her, drinking in her image, as if he is biding his time until he can touch her again.

_Manly Beach, April 2002_

The golden stand stretches out before them as they make their way along the beach. As they approach the far end, footsteps become less frequent, and the number of people inhabiting the area drops until they are alone. Out of sight of prying eyes, their hands slip together, Mike lifting her hand to kiss it gently. The fear that had taken up residence in her stomach as they travelled together had begun to disperse the further they travelled away from the prying eyes of the general public. The sun shone overhead, and the day itself was quite warm. Dressed in short sleeves and three-quarter pants, Kate's purple thongs were clutched in her free hand, a brightly coloured beach bag slung over her shoulder. The man beside was dressed in jeans and a light shirt, unbuttoned at the top to reveal the skin beneath, something which Kate planned to exploit later on. Their bare feet slid through the grainy sand, making an occasional squeak as they walked. 'Here?' Mike asked, stopping a good distance away from where the last people had set up their camp. Kate nodded her assent and dropped the bag she was carrying. Deftly, Mike extracted the picnic rug, shaking it out and dropping it to the sand, gesturing for Kate to sit. Accepting his hand, Kate stepped onto the rug, pulling him into her arms, catching him off balance and sending them both toppling to the ground in a tangled mass of limbs. As their laughter died down, they took stock of their closeness, Mike's hand beginning an agonisingly slow journey northward. Unable to suppress a moan as his fingers came into contact with the skin on her stomach, she pulled his lips back to hers, eager to make up for lost time. Dragging his lips away, Mike shifted them to her neck, sliding them down the skin, gently nipping the soft flesh. Emitting breathy moans as he continued his movements, it took all of Kate's willpower to push him away. 'Mike…not…here…' she said, punctuating each word with a loud groan. Reluctantly, he tore his lips away, resting his head on her shoulder as he attempted to regain control of his breathing. Looking up, he saw the regret in her eyes, and knew that she wanted this as much as he did. After all, it had been _days_, since they were able to be together. 'I know,' he said, making a move to shift his weight off her.

'I didn't say you could move,' she told him, kissing his lips briefly, 'just that we couldn't do _that_ here.'

'Really? I always pictured you as an exhibitionist. Besides, we could teach some of these passersby a few things,' he told her, his expression deadly serious. A confused look came across her face and she shifted back slightly,

'Seriously?' He kept his expression still for a few minutes longer, eventually allowing a smile to creep across his features. Seeing his façade crumble, Kate slapped him playfully, pushing him off her, 'Smartass.' Rifling through her bag, Kate pulled out her brick-like camera, waving it at him again, knowing how much he hated the thing. 'No Kate, no pictures…'

'Yes Mike. There will be pictures,' she accentuated her statement with a kiss, lying down with him and positioning the camera above their smiling faces. Clicking the button, she captured the image. Turning the camera to face them, Kate smiled at the image on screen, 'Perfect.'

Turning the page, I immediately search for the date, finding that this picture was taken a number of years after the first two. Depicting two figures standing on a dock, there is an older warship moored behind them. Both are dressed in Ceremonial dress, their medals glistening in the bright sun. Her left arm hangs lifelessly by her side; her right is across her body in a protective manner. Their eyes focused only on the other person, their expressions are pained. His mouth is slightly open as if he was speaking when the picture was snapped. Body language alone tells me that there has been a breakdown in the once intimate relationship that the pair shared. Observing the scene, I long to know what happened to the once happy couple.

_HMAS Cairns, September 2007_

The official ceremony complete, the crowd begins to disperse. The ship's former company congregated together at the top of the gangplank, a discussion quickly beginning about which pub would be the location for the nights' drinks. Dismissing the idea of once again frequenting their local, they eventually decided on one of the various bars along the Esplanade. Decision made, some of the Junior Sailors began to make a hasty retreat, eager to begin the party, and wanting to put as much distance between themselves and their Commanding Officers as possible. The recent tension between the CO and his X hadn't gone unnoticed by their subordinates and no one wanted to be caught in the crossfire lest a fight erupt between them on the dock. In the past six months the X had made no qualms about expressing her disapproval at some of the CO's decisions, and their debates had sent many a sailor scurrying, not wanting to see either of their leaders in the moments following such a debate. The only one immune seemed to be the Nav. She'd made no secret of her dislike of Kate McGregor when she first boarded, but after being stuck in such close quarters the pair had developed a firm friendship. Now she stood off to one side, snapping her final pictures of the ship she'd loved so much. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Mike and Kate speaking quietly together. She was almost smiling as they interacted, her gaze boring into his, her left arm hanging limply at her side.

'How's the arm?' Mike asked as she turned to walk away.

'Its fine Sir,' she responded, confused as to why he was asking again only an hour after she'd previously answered the same question.

'Have you got any plans for your leave?'

'Not particularly. You?'

'Heading down to the farm for a few days.' Kate nodded dismissively, turning to leave, no longer interested in a conversation with him.

The photo opposite is slightly more intimate, the date placing it a year after its predecessor. This time, a man and a woman stand on the steel deck of the Warship. Both dressed in their Whites, they stand a short distance apart. The woman's expression is one of pain as she looks up at him. Their hands are resting on the steel railing of the ship, his little finger resting against the back of her hand and I can imagine him running it across the surface in a soothing manner. The man's face is partially obscured, by the hat atop his head, his body is tilted slightly to the right, as if he's trying to keep his full weight from the left. Searching my memory I recall a story that Mum and Dad used to tell about Dad and Mum's ex Jim being involved in an explosion during operations a number of years earlier.

_HMAS Hammersley, Cairns Port, October 2008_

Standing at the top of the gangway Mike looks down at his Sailors, glad to be boarding again after a shrapnel wound had almost claimed his life weeks earlier. Assembled on the deck in the late Spring sun, they were standing in formation in their Whites, waiting to greet him as he boarded. The formal welcome over minutes later, Mike spoke briefly with each of the Crew, spotting Kate out the corner of his eye. Standing off to one side, she appeared to be waiting for the rest of the crew to disperse. Excusing himself from a conversation with Charge, he approached her, stopping an acceptable distance from her, 'Hey,' he whispered. She lifted her head up, clearly struggling to control her emotions.

'Hi,' she responded, her voice betraying the calm she was trying so desperately to portray. Looking round, he couldn't see Commander Marshall, nor the car that had transported them to the ship, so he inched his body slightly closer, his hand sliding along the ship's railing stopping next to hers. His little finger searched her hand out, running gently across the soft skin on the back of her hand. A brief smile flickered across her lips at the contact, and for a moment she lost sight of everything around them, her eyes focusing solely on him. Neither spoke, content just to be in each other's presence as the enormity of what they could have lost finally hit them.

Ignoring the pounding in my head, I flip the page over, a baby blue background greeting me. The photograph is stuck to the page on an angle, small designs stencilled above and below the image. The customary date is in the top left hand corner of the page. Focusing my attention on the photograph, I can see the space around the couple is cramped. Both are dressed in DPNU's. A small Asian child is nestled between them. A desk is along one wall with a small table directly behind them. His expression is one of terror as he half holds the infant, obviously in the midst of placing it back in her safe hold. The top of a brunette's head is in the bottom of the photograph, and I can imagine other people looking on at the scene with great amusement. A warm, maternal smile graces her lips as she looks at the small child, her arms adjusted to take its weight.

_HMAS __Hammersley, Cairns Port, March 2009_

Kate smiled at the small child in her arms. He looked so peaceful, his eyes closed as he slept, unaware of the drama that had unfolded around him. 'Ma'am, they're ready for him,' Swain said, sticking his head inside the wardroom.

'Thanks Swain,' she responded, carefully rising to her feet. Mindful of the infant in her arms, Kate stepped through the door, making a left, heading along the corridor. Her attention focused on the bundle in her arms, she failed to notice Mike in front of her. Feeling her body collide with something solid; Kate looked up, noticing her Commanding Officer for the first time. 'Sorry Sir,' she said, ducking her head in embarrassment.

'No problem X. How's the child?'

'Sleeping, we're just handing him over now.' Continuing her journey along the hall, Kate was stopped outside the Ship's Office, a folder of paperwork thrust under her nose, 'Ma'am, do you have a moment? I have some reports that need your signature.' Peering into the office she spotted the reports sitting on the table.

'Of course, I just need…' spotting Mike standing a short distance behind her talking to Nav, 'Sir, can you hold him a minute?' she indicated the sleeping infant. Stepping away from his conversation, Mike came closer,

'X?'

'Can you hold the baby? I need to sign these reports.' He looked around, unsure as to why she would ask him, when Nav, who was sniggering behind him, was perfectly capable of doing so. 'Sir?' she asked again, holding the infant out in front of her, gently placing it in his arms before he could respond. 'He won't break Sir,' she told him as she entered the office, quickly scanning the paperwork before adding her signature to the bottom of the page. Paperwork sorted, she turned, almost bumping into a terrified looking Mike who was preparing to hand back the child as quickly as he'd received it. Kate raised her eyebrows watching as Mike stepped back as soon as the baby was securely in her arms.

Turning the page, my eyes fall on the next image. It is stunning from the expansive sea in the background, to the endless blue sky above. The grey steel railings of the ship interrupted the view of the ocean, but it was the two people in the foreground that stole the attention of the viewer. Dressed in matching grey t-shirts and DPNU pants, the pair were deep in conversation. His hands were raised in some sort of gesture, his face animated as he spoke, and an amused smile graced her lips as she listened. They appeared lost in their own world, oblivious to the goings on around them. A smile graced my own lips as I looked at the image, wondering how my parents managed to hide their attraction for so long.

_HMAS __Hammersley, June 2009_

The steel deck radiates heat in the early winter sun. With the crew lazing around on the slippery surface enjoying a rare barbeque feast, the Commanding Officer and his Executive take the opportunity to steal a few peaceful moments together. Sitting off to one side, away from the prying eyes of their crew and its guest, the two Officers were sharing food off a single plate, each greedily grabbing at the sausage sangas, their empty stomachs taking priority over anything else they had to discuss. Belly full, Kate leaned back against the railing, her head colliding with the metal structure that kept her onboard. Finished with his meal, Mike copied her position, their heads resting next to each other as they began a quiet conversation, 'He said that? He knows?' Shock was written all over her face as Mike relayed his earlier conversation with Kershaw.  
>'Even if he knows Kate... he can't really prove anything... we were always so careful remember?' Smiling, she remembers the thrill of sneaking off to their secret meeting place and deep down, she knew he was right.<p>

'You're right but even the suggestion...if he makes the allegation…would we be able to deny it? We're obliged to tell the truth...'  
>Mike looks up, spotting one of the Junior Sailors in the vicinity, 'Kate…it is too risky to discuss this here. How about we have dinner when we dock?'<p>

'You bring the wine,' Kate tells him, her acceptance putting an end to the discussion. After a pregnant pause, their conversation resumed, slipping back into more neutral topics, burying the pain of the past.

Camera in hand, an eagle eyed Nikki looked around the Quarterdeck, snapping pictures of her crewmates as they sat in small groups, enjoying the warm weather. Spotting her two Commanding Officers sitting off to the side, a knowing smile formed on her face. Certain they weren't paying attention to their surroundings, Nikki raised the camera, focusing it on her intended subjects. Pressing the button, she waited for the photo to appear on the display. Satisfied with the picture, she moved off quickly, not wanting to alert her subjects.

Eager to see more pictures, I cast my gaze to the opposite page. The photo appears to have been taken from some distance, though the image itself is crystal clear. His hand resting on her cheek, her head bowed down. Traces of tears can be seen on her skin, the liquid glistening on his thumb. Her eyes are closed, her mouth slightly open as she breathes out. Love radiates from his eyes as he looks at the woman before him, stopping short of pressing his lips to her head. It's almost as if they're in their own perfect bubble. The image of the couple takes up the whole picture with only a hint of a white floral arrangement on the table, but in this case, it's not the focus of the picture.

_Palm Island, February__ 2010_

The restaurant is deserted when they arrive. Most guests are still poolside, soaking up the last of the day's warmth. The perky girl at the desk seats them at a table overlooking the water, leaving them with two menus and a wine list. Scanning the vast array of options they decide to share a seafood platter, and select a wine to match. Their order placed, a rare uncomfortable silence settles over them. Mike watches as she fiddles with the rim of her wine glass, his eyes drinking in her beauty, mentally undressing her as he remembers the night they had spent at her place only weeks earlier. Images of her wrapped around him assault his senses, and he struggles to keep the smirk from his features.

'Mike?' Snapping out of his daydream, he looked at the curious woman across from him,

'Sorry, what?'

'How's the renovation going?' Shaking his head as the last of the images drifted from his mind, he cleared his throat, his fuzzy mind trying to formulate a response.

'Almost done. Thankfully. I'll be glad to see the backs of those guys.'

'Problems?'

'Nothing but. I swear it's going to cost three times as much as I was quoted. Guess that's what happens when you try and direct tradespeople from off shore.' Kate shrugged,

'I guess so. Commander White give you any indication of when you might be going back ashore?' He shook his head, 'You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't entirely upset about that situation.'

'This isn't my choice Kate. And you know that'

'Do I Mike? Really?' She bit back

'You should.'

'How am I supposed to know? You've given me no indication that you're anything but pleased with this situation.'

'That's crap Kate, and you know it.' She waved him off dismissively, turning away from his gaze. A middle aged man chose that moment to approach the table. Oblivious to the tension between the pair, he held up his camera,

'Excuse me, may I?' lifting the camera in position, he mimed taking a shot. The couple looked at each other, considering his offer. Agreeing hesitantly, they shifted slightly closer, still keeping a reasonable distance between their bodies. Dissatisfied, the man gestured for them to move closer, stopping short of posing them. Following the man's instructions, their bodies came into contact with one another, all the tension that was evident earlier melting away. Satisfied that his subjects were where he wanted them, the man lifted the camera to his eye, adjusting the lens before snapping the photo. Assessing his work briefly, he gave them a thumbs up, explaining that they would be able to collect the photo from the woman at the door when they left. Thanking him, the pair shifted their focus to their newly arrived platter, consuming their dinner in a comfortable silence.

Checking back on the image, the man shakes his head, the couple look slightly awkward sitting next to one another. The crisp white railing runs on either side of them, tall palm trees standing at either end, framing the shot beautifully, but he is displeased with the subjects. The man's arm is looped around her body, a lopsided smile on his face. His gaze is downcast. Observing the scene more closely, it becomes clear exactly _where_ he is looking. She looks slightly uncomfortable at their closeness, but nestles her body into his all the same. Taking a seat on his stool near the bar, he watches them a little longer, trying to see if he can get a better shot of them.

Their meal finished, Mike picked up his wine, his gaze sweeping over her appreciatively. 'Don't,' she whispers, noticing his scrutiny.

'I can't help it Kate. I want…no I need to touch you. To feel your skin…your body beneath mine. It's all I think about Kate…Getting posted back wasn't supposed to happen, I know that, but it doesn't diminish my need for you. I can't look at you without seeing that night run through my head…' Blushing, Kate looks away, nervously brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Allowing his words to wash over her, she eventually returns her gaze to his, her voice shaking as she speaks, 'I'm trying to be patient Mike, it's just hard…I've never wanted you as much as I do right now. But it hurts Mike. Knowing how good it can be, it just makes it harder when we can't be together.' He shifts closer, his hand coming to rest on her cheek, wiping at the tear that slipped out as she spoke.

Across the room the man has spotted his chance, raising the camera up, he expertly zooms in on the pair, instantly capturing the intimate moment.

The next is a set of smaller images all in black and white, beginning with the pair looking at the small camera, ending with them in a passionate embrace. His face is covered with cuts and bruises, evidence of a beating I never before knew he received. In the second image her hands frame his face, a thumb tracing a cut, and she stares at him, as if it'll be the last time she holds him. The third; his lips lie against her forehead, their eyes closed, and upon closer examination I can see a wet track down her cheek. The fourth; the moment before their lips meet. Eyes, still closed, their lips are barely centimetres apart. Finally their lips meet. The final image, they've melted into one another, oblivious to the camera.

_Cairns Central, August 2010_

Hands clasped together, the happy couple move slowly through the crowds, not wanting to jar Mike's damaged ribs. Several colourful brochures jabbed her in the side as they walked, but she ignored the discomfort, still floating on a cloud of happiness, having just booked a dream holiday six months from now, when he was officially off the boat, and she would be CO. Turning to the right they found the exit they were looking for. Stopping dead in her tracks, Kate almost faltered when he pulled her forward. His face contorted in pain, he gripped his ribs, trying to calm the fire that had exploded within. Realising what her actions had done, Kate threw her arms around him, pressing a series of apologetic kisses to his face, 'Sorry,' she whispered.

'Why did we stop?' he asked, confusion etched on his features as he watched people step around their position.

'Photo booth,' she said, gesturing to the white box, colourful stickers littering the outside.

'Seriously?' Kate nodded eagerly in response, making a move to slip behind the curtain. Shaking his head, Mike followed her into the small space, shutting the curtain behind him. Fiddling with the buttons on the machine, Kate pushed her coins into the slot, and leaned back into his embrace.

The next picture seems to be slightly more formal. Depicting two officers dressed in crisp whites they are frozen in position at the top of the gangway, a white banner announcing that they're disembarking the HMAS Hammersley. Their right hands are raised in salute, their eyes focused in the direction of the photographer, but not looking at them directly. Stacks of manila folders are stuck precariously under their left arms, though the papers contained within are lined up in an orderly manner.

_HMAS __Hammersley, Cairns Port, September 2011_

The tropical sun beats down on the Warship as she sits tied to her moorings, rising and falling gently with the slight swell. Sailors bustle about on deck, completing their last tasks before disembarking ahead of a much anticipated seventy-two hour shore leave. Watching the Junior Sailors disembark, Dutchy stands near the white ensign, waiting for his Commanding Officers to emerge. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a khaki t-shirt, his bag is slung over his shoulder, black sunnies shielding his eyes from the bright sun. His quiet reflection is interrupted by the chatter of a man and woman approaching. 'Boss, X,' he says, greeting the pair as they step onto the Quarterdeck, dressed in their whites, their arms laden with paperwork. 'Dutchy,' Mike greets, slightly confused as to why his Bosun was still on board and not at the pub with the rest of the crew. 'Are you coming to the Pub?'

'We'll drop by when we've finished at NavCom. If you'll excuse us Dutchy?'

'Sir,' the Bosun responded, watching as his Commanding Officers climbed the gangplank, pausing to simultaneously salute the ensign before Mike stepped onto shore for the last time as Captain of Hammersley.

A caption beneath the photo next photo indicates that it has come from the newspaper, a small date typed beneath the caption. The room is filled almost to the brim with people dressed in various uniforms and smart suits. In the top right hand corner of the photograph a game of Two-Up is in progress, a group of elderly men watching the coins as they spin in mid air. In the foreground, a man and woman dressed in crisp white are speaking with an elderly digger, his arms raised as he speaks to the younger pair. A young girl is in the arms of the woman, several medals attached to her dress, her eyes closed as she sleeps, a thumb shoved in her mouth.

"_Commander Mike Flynn of HMAS Cairns, and Lieutenant Commander Kate McGregor of HMAS Hammersley, with Chloe Blake and Former Chief Petty Officer Peter Reynolds at Cairns RSL yesterday."_

_ANZAC Day, Cairns, April 2012_

The RSL is brimming with Service men and women, all gathered to honour their fallen comrades. This year is tinged with an extra layer of sadness as the Crew of the Hammersley, in Port for this important day, pause to remember Swain who less than a year earlier sacrificed his life in an effort to keep the City of Cairns safe. At Dawn the Crew stood shoulder to shoulder with Sally and Chloe Blake, the six year old proudly wearing her father's medals. After a quiet breakfast together, Mike and Kate had returned to the Cenotaph, preparing to march with both ex and current members of the Australian Defence Forces. A brave Chloe returned also, determined to march while her mother looked on, her eyes brimming with tears as she watched her daughter interact with the Hammersley crew, giving each of them, including a stony faced RO an enthusiastic hug, these were after all, her Daddy's friends before he went to Heaven to see Poppy Blake. Lining up in formation, young Chloe stood between Mike and Kate, her little legs struggling to keep up with their much longer ones as they marched towards the large gathering of people. At the completion of the parade young Chloe walked solemnly over to her mother, tears streaming down her delicate face.

Following the moving ceremony, a vast majority of the crowd adjourned to the local RSL, and this was where the Hammersley Crew, past and present found themselves, beers clutched in their hands as they weaved through the crowd. In one corner a lively game of Two-Up had formed with a group of older diggers, and many had gathered to watch it unfold. Sally had excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Chloe with Kate, the exhausted young girl half asleep in Kate's arms, the early morning taking its toll. Her head resting on Kate's shoulder, she struggled to stay awake, while the elder woman remained locked in a conversation with Mike and a former WWII sailor, the older man enthusiastically telling stories from his time in the service. Kate adjusted Chloe's weight against her side, pressing a kiss to the forehead of the little girl she'd come to know so well in recent months.

The next is a glossy picture, stuck to pale purple paper. A clear blue sky frames the couple and crystal clear water laps around her ankles and his feet have sunken slightly in the soft sand. There's an indent in the sand between the pair, a small blue box discarded next to them. Her arms are around his neck, holding him close as they remain locked in a passionate embrace. A diamond ring adorns her left ring finger, sparkling in the sunlight. The fingers on his right hand are tangled in her hair, his left arm wrapped around her waist. Both are oblivious to the world around them, each only concerned with the other.

_Cape Tribulation, May 2012_

The sand stretches out before the couple as they walk up the sparsely populated beach. The water lapped at their ankles as they walked barefoot through the shallows. Their hands clasped together, both were enjoying some rare time off and had taken the extraordinary step of escaping Cairns in favour of the tranquillity of Cape Tribulation. With neither of their phones able to locate a signal through the dense tree cover of the rainforest, Mike and Kate were enjoying three days leave before Kate headed back out to sea. To their left, a thick canopy of trees surrounds the small settlement of Cape Tribulation, to their right, the crystal blue water that covered protected the Great Barrier Reef. Steering Kate out of the shallows and onto the more solid sand, Mike threw his arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his side, dropping a kiss to the side of her head. Up ahead, they spotted a young couple with two young children frolicking about on the beach, the kids squealing with delight as they threw sand around and jumped in the shallow water. Mum and Dad watched on, contented smiles on their faces as they watched their children. 'That'll be us in a few years,' Mike whispered, pausing in his stride. Feeling the man beside her stop, Kate turned to face him, her eyebrow raised in curiosity. 'Mike?' she asked. The man before her looked nervous, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. They'd talked about having kids together a number of times over the past ten months, and had decided only last night that now was the right time for them to start a family of their own. Now, Kate was confused at Mike's sudden silence, 'Mike?' she asked again, unsure of the reason for his bizarre behaviour. Reaching out to grab her right hand and running his thumb across her soft skin, he fiddled nervously with something in his pocket. Taking a deep breath, Mike pulled out a small blue box. Flipping the box open, he revealed a platinum ring, with a single square diamond flanked by two small sapphires. His gaze shifted from the box to meet her gaze. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he spoke in a shaky voice, 'Kate, will you marry me?' Nodding through the tears that had begun to fall when he spoke, she mustered up an answer, 'Yes…' Tearfully, Mike removed the ring from its housing, dropping the box to the ground, slipping the band onto her finger. Shifting his position slightly, he threw his arms around her, crushing his lips against hers in a bruising kiss.

The next is a picture of domestic bliss. There are two figures are standing in the spacious kitchen. The man stands behind the woman; his hands resting protectively on her flat stomach, her hands are sitting on his, a diamond ring on her left hand sparkling in the sunlight. Several bowls are on the bench, a half carved leg of meat sitting on a platter, a jug of gravy completing the meal. Her body is moulded against his, her eyes closed, a lazy smile gracing her lips. His lips are next to her ear; as if he was whispering something to her at the moment the photograph was snapped.

_Cairns, December 2012_

Several bowls are scattered across the kitchen bench, serving cutlery beside each. The table is set for lunch, the wine glasses sparkling in the sunlight. A small contingent of close family and friends are sitting in the living room, a pile of wrapping paper stashed in the corner. The smell of a freshly cooked roast wafts through the house as Mike sits the meat on the bench, picking up the meat fork and a sharp knife to carve the pork. The knife slid through the solid layer of crackling and into the meaty leg, thick slices of meat falling to the platter beneath. 'This looks amazing,' Mike commented watching as she tossed the roast vegies in a large ceramic bowl, pouring a small amount of balsamic vinegar through the mix. Reaching in with the tongs she fished out a piece of sweet potato, popping it into her mouth, nodding happily as she chewed the orange vegetable. Pushing the bowl away, she turned her focus back to the stove top, stirring the gravy which was bubbling away. Switching the heat off, she grabbed the jug from next to the sink, carefully lifting the dish up to pour the liquid into the jug. 'Need a hand?' Mike asked, lifting up the whisk.

'Can you scrape this?' He nodded, pushing the last dregs out of the tray. Satisfied, Kate lowered the tray back to the stovetop, picking the jug up and shifting it over to sit with the rest of the assembled dishes. Lunch ready, Kate took a minute to catch her breath. With Mike's parents and siblings in town for Christmas, their house was full to the brim, leaving Kate, who had arrived back on shore the day before utterly exhausted. Mike came to stand behind her, his arms winding around her waist, his hands resting on her flat stomach. Leaning back against his chest, Kate sat her hands on top of his, letting her head fall back, exposing her bare neck to him. Taking advantage of the bare flesh before him, Mike pressed his lips to her neck, his warm breath tickling the skin. A quiet moan escaped her lips and he pulled back, tilting his head upwards to kiss her temple. 'Merry Christmas babe…' Kate's eyes slipped closed as she leaned against him, his steady heartbeat almost lulling her into a peaceful sleep. 'Kate no sleeping. We've got people to feed.' Her eyes fluttered open and a smile crept onto her face,

'Whose idea was it to have everyone at our place?' she asked, knowing full well that Mike was the one who'd suggested Christmas in Cairns. 'No idea.'

'I bet you don't. Next time, you can cook.' He shifted his lips closer to her ear,

'Not a chance…'

The following is an image I recognise. It's a smaller copy of one that hangs prominently in our living room. Running my finger across the glossy surface I trace the outline of the image, my eyes drinking in the detail. The sand around the couple's bare feet is damp, their weight causing them to sink into the soppy grains. Both are dressed casually, the sun setting in the background, bathing them in a beautiful orangey-red hue. The skirt of her simple dress is blowing up slightly, highlighting her bare ankles. Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in waves, a frangipani tucked behind one ear. They stand a short distance apart, facing one another, although their gaze doesn't meet. His left hand rests on the slight swell of her stomach, his right caresses her cheek. She in turn has a hand resting on his cheek, her thumb pressed lightly against his lips. Her free hand is resting with his on her belly, their fingers touching lightly as if they're in awe of the life they've created.

_Trinity Beach, January 2013_

The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, drawing the hot afternoon to a close. The waves roll onto the shore in a steady rhythm, washing away the couple's footprints as they walk slowly along the sand. The cuffs of his linen pants are damp, attracting sand particles which are rubbing on his bare feet as he walks. Her simple white dress stops just above her ankles, billowing in the slight breeze. The dress is strapless, tightening over her middle, highlighting the slight bump that has begun to form in recent days. Their fingers are laced together as they walk, their gaze fixated on one another. A photographer is walking backwards as he photographs the pair, smiling happily as he snaps numerous pictures. Behind the couple a small group of people follow, the men dressed in similar attire, the women dressed in pale purple knee length dresses. A trio of older guests, dressed in more formal attire are standing off to one side. Holding up his hand to stop the procession, the photographer gestured for everyone to stand together. Taking several photos of the group, the man behind the lens spoke, 'Can I just get one of the Bride and her father?' An older man dressed in black dress pants and a white shirt stepped forward. Clean shaven, with short grey hair, he reached out, grasping Kate's hand gently. Smiling at his oldest daughter, Arthur McGregor came to stand in the soft sand next to her, placing his arm cautiously around her waist. It was only a few months ago that Arthur had found her, having searched the globe for over two decades and he'd jumped at the chance to walk her down the sandy aisle, watching on as she promised to love and cherish Mike for the rest of her life. Snapping several photos of Kate with her father, the photographer turned his attention to Mike and his parents, who were standing a short distance behind, watching Kate interact with her father. Stepping forward flanked by his parents, the trio stood in a position similar to that which Kate and Arthur had been in only a few minutes earlier. Standing comfortably between his parents Mike smiled happily for the camera, his excitement spilling over as he watched Kate out the corner of his eye. Satisfied with his collection of family photos, the photographer called for Mike and Kate to stand together once more.

Turning the page once more my eyes scan the image briefly, searching for a date to place this picture in the timeline forming in my head. Stuck to a camouflage background, the image shows two figures standing along a riverbank, an old camouflaged warship moored in the background. A narrow gangway is in the far right of the image, allowing people access to the old ship. The woman's head is mostly hidden beneath a navy blue beanie, only the tips of her blonde hair are visible hanging over her shoulders. A thick black coat is wrapped around her body, a mauve scarf tied around her neck, starving off the cold. The man is much braver. His head is bare, save for the covering of greying hair. A dark blue scarf is peeking out the top of his black jacket. Their hands are clasped together as they stand on the Port side of the once grand ship.

_London, February 2013_

Kate steeled herself against the icy wind, wrapping her coat tighter around her body. Noticing her obvious discomfort, Mike threw his arm around her as they walked, pulling her considerably smaller frame to his side. Fiddling with the thick beanie that covered her head, she tugged it down further, covering her cold earlobes and shivering dramatically. 'I thought you were tough,' Mike told her, a lopsided grin forming on his face.

'Not when it's this cold. There's a reason we live in the tropics.' Failing to suppress his laughter, he responded, 'You used to live here, remember?'

'Vaguely. I don't remember it being this bloody cold.'

'Maybe you just suppressed it.'

'Highly likely.' A comfortable silence settled over the couple as they strolled along the River Thames. Their destination appeared on their right, and they paused at the narrow gangway. Kate's eyes swept over the old warship, her eyes watering as she watched the old ship move up and down with the rippling water. Her bow facing towards the London Eye, her hull was painted in a camouflage pattern, several grey chains holding her bow in position. Mike meanwhile, unaware of Kate's connection with the old ship was eying the old girl with obvious affection. 'She's beautiful,' he breathed.

'She is, isn't she?' Kate agreed, tossing up whether to let Mike in on her connection with the old Warship. 'My grandfather served on her.' Mike turned to face his well bundled up wife, 'Second World War. He was on her at Normandy.'

'He was Navy?' Kate nodded,

'I can remember some stories that he used to tell me when I was younger. That was before…' she trailed off.

'You went to Australia,' he finished in a hushed tone. Again she nodded. 'Did you want to go onboard?' his voice was quiet.

'At this moment…there's nothing I'd want more.' Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, he stepped onto the narrow gangway, crossing from land onto the steel deck, Kate a couple of steps behind him. Paying the entrance fee for them both, together they entered the old ship.

Flipping the page, I come across a background I recognise. Smiling as my own memories of the location begin to filter into my mind, I take a few minutes to reminisce before refocusing my attention on the photograph before me. There are thick stone bricks covering the background of the picture. The stable door is open, a thick bed of straw lining the floor. To the right of the door stands a blonde woman, a pair of elegant black riding boots covering her calves, creamy jodhpurs covering her thighs. She looks a picture of wealth, her blonde hair hanging in a neat braid down her back, the paleness of her hair contrasting with the black of the her jacket. With her stands a bay horse, its black mane and forelock mussed as her fingers work the area behind its ears. The horses head is bowed, resting against her body, its eyes half closed, its posture relaxed.

_Carwell Estate, Northern England, February 2013_

The horses' hooves tap on the cobblestones along the driveway, Kate moving in a gentle rhythm in time with the beast beneath her. Mike however, was less graceful, sitting uncomfortably in the saddle. 'I thought you grew up on a farm?' Kate asked, laughing as she watched him shifting in the saddle, trying to get comfortable.

'I did. But we had bikes and utes. Not horses.'

'Seriously?'

'Seriously. Learnt to drive on the farm. I think I was ten. The girls had horses for pony club, but we didn't have work horses. Did you?'

'When I lived here we did. In Australia there was no money. Mum drank it all away…' she trailed off. It wasn't often she talked about her past, but in the time they'd been in England, she'd spoken about it more often. Three days ago they'd arrived at the McGregor family estate and Mike had been slightly overwhelmed at meeting Kate's extended family. Word had spread among her numerous relatives that she was visiting with her new husband, and having not seen Kate for over two decades, they'd gathered at the family estate, eager to see the young girl who'd been gone for so many years. After two days stuck inside with the inclement weather, Kate had jumped at the chance to take a couple of the horses out. Now, as they headed back into the stables Kate hopped off, her feet landing on the uneven pavers. Her knees screamed in protest as she landed, the joints having grown stiff throughout the ride. Mike shifted from the saddle, his feet landing on the ground, a loud groan tumbling from his lips as he tried to straighten his aching knees. Smoothing her jacket down over her expanding middle, Kate ducked under her horses head, coming around to check on Mike, who seemed to be stuck in a semi-crouched position. Struggling to contain her laughter, she gently helped him to right himself, and together they walked into the stables. Refusing the help of the two grooms who worked in the stables, Kate secured both horses, and began to unsaddle, then passing the gear off to Mike who took it back inside to stow. Collecting the brushes from where she'd left them earlier, Kate gave both horses a thorough brush before throwing a rug over the horse Mike had ridden and leading it back into its stable. Returning her attention to the bay mare that she had ridden, Kate lovingly brushed her coat, and picked out her feet. Scratching the mare behind the ears, Kate was unsurprised when her head brushed up against her stomach. Jasmine, the horse Kate had when she was younger, had passed a several years earlier, but in Kate's absence had given birth to the beautiful horse standing before her. Tears prickled in her eyes as she thought about the chestnut mare she had been so fond of riding as a child. She'd spent a great many hours riding Jasmine around the expansive grounds of the estate, and had competed in several shows around the county. Speaking quietly to the horse as she continued to scratch its ears, Kate had all but forgotten that her husband was sitting on a nearby hay bale, watching as she interacted with the horse she'd only been introduced to a few hours earlier.

Several months pass between photographs. My eyes sweep over the image, and a smile forms on my face. A clearly pregnant woman lies across the white couch, her feet hanging over the far end. Her baby blue t-shirt is partially pushed up, exposing a portion of her belly, which is crisscrossed with stretch marks as her delicate skin stretches to accommodate the growing baby. The man sits on the coffee table beside her, his attention clearly focused on her stomach, a look of pure delight on the man's face as he watches it. The woman watches him intently, a crooked smile on her lips, and judging by her expression, she's close to tears.

_Cairns__, May 2013_

Moving slowly, Kate dodges a chair as she makes her way to the couch. Outside, she can hear the sizzle of the barbeque and the excited chatter of their former crew. Struggling to cool her much larger frame, in the tropical heat, Mike sent Kate inside to put her feet up. The material of her t-shirt was stretched over the mound on her front, her cotton shorts stopping mid thigh. Dropping her body onto the couch, she managed to swing her swollen feet up, resting them over the arm, her head falling onto the stripy cushion. The stream of cool air from the air conditioning unit covered her skin, instantly drying the beads of sweat that had formed in the heat of the day. 'Kate?'

'In here,' she called, lifting her arm up. Moments later Mike appeared next to her, sitting on the coffee table opposite. 'You alright?'

'Apart from feeling like a beached whale?' Mike nodded, 'Nothing a rest in front of the AC won't fix.'

'Not long now…'

'Still the delivery,' she noted, 'Unless you plan to do that?' Amused, he kissed her forehead gently,

'Sorry, I think that's your job.'

'Not fair, you got the easy part of the bargain…' Shaking his head, he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, his hand trailing down to rest on the bump that protected their growing child. Pulling back, a smile spreads Mike's face as he feels the baby kick,

'Hi baby,' he whispers to the bump, lifting her shirt up to kiss the mound. A watery smile drifts onto Kate's face as she watches him talk to their unborn child.

Ryan shut the door to the bathroom, turning to his left and heading back into the main living area of the house. To his right, he spotted his father and Kate, talking quietly, Mike's hand resting on his half sibling protectively. Picking up the digital camera that had been deposited on the table earlier by his step-mother, he snapped a photo of the serene scene before him. Switching the camera off, he placed it back on the table and continued his journey outside.

Pale pink paper greets me as I turn the page. Beneath the photo a picture of a small grey bear is stuck to the page, a little balloon clutched in its paw. My eyes drift up to the picture, excitement is etched on the features of the two adults in the photo. A blonde woman sits, her hair matted to her glistening forehead. A slightly greying man is standing next to her, her gaze firmly on the tiny baby in her arms. There's a small white card on the wall behind. Black lettering announces the bed's occupant as _Flynn, Kate_. Dark bags hung under the woman's eyes, a needle sits in the back of her hand. Tears are evident in the couples eyes as they remain engrossed in the child, one of his meaty fingers tracing its cheek gently.

_Cairns Base Hospital, June 2013_

'One more push Kate, you can do this…' The exhausted woman dropped her head against the pillow, shaking it vigorously. 'No,' she responded, her voice shaking, 'I can't do it…' Mike's heart sank, he'd never seen his wife so defeated, but after twenty-six hours of labour, it seemed she had all but given up. Dipping the cloth into the bowl of cold water next to him, he rinsed out the excess water and laid it across her forehead again. 'Kate,' he spoke softly, 'I know you're tired, but you need to push…You're so close.' Sucking in on the oxygen that hung over the bed head, Kate shook her head once more. Tears streamed from her eyes and every part of her body ached. Her pain was reflected in his eyes, he'd been by her side for every contraction, and his right hand had been sufficiently squashed as Kate attempted to push their child from her body. Now, it seemed she had all but given up. Not willing to admit defeat when they were getting so close, Mike tried again, 'I know you can do this, we've come this far, don't give up on me now…' Kate looked up at him tearfully,

'It hurts…'

'I know baby…but you can do this…' Nodding miserably, Kate looked up, her tired mind unable to formulate a verbal response.

'Should we do this then?' he asked. Kate nodded, shifting her body back into position, 'I'm ready…' she responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

'Alright Kate, on the next contraction I want you to push, and we'll see if we can't get this baby out,' the middle aged woman spoke with an air of authority and as the next contraction hit, Kate bore down.

A high-pitched cry fills the small space as Kate drops to the pillow, completely spent. 'It's a girl!' The announcement came as the tiny infant is displayed briefly for her parents. 'Mike, would you like to cut the cord?' Speechless, Mike nods, dropping Kate's hand in favour of freeing their daughter from her mother. Free from her mother, the new arrival is placed carefully into her mother's arms. A proud smile comes across Kate's lips as she looks at the child, tears rolling down her cheeks. Mike too is enthralled with the baby, his eyes watering as he runs a gentle finger down her cheek. Dropping his head lower, he presses a kiss to Kate's forehead, whispering something indistinguishable to those around him. Tearing her gaze away from her daughter for a moment, she gives Mike a quick kiss, 'She's perfect…'

Completely engrossed in reliving my parents past, I fail to hear the front door open. 'What the hell?' It's Mum's voice. And she sounds angry. Looking up from the book I notice Mum standing there. Anger is etched in her features, 'Isabel Kathryn, what is going on here?'

'Um…' I try to articulate a reasonable excuse, but faced with Mum's trademark Commander stare, I find myself speechless. Dad walks in a few moments later, his reaction much the same as hers, and within seconds I find him standing in front of me also. 'Isabel?' he asks, searching for an explanation as to why the place is trashed.

'Pat,' I choke out, 'He was in Port, and a bunch of his mates and some kids from school came over for a few drinks.'

'A few?' Mum yelled, 'Have you seen the front lawn?' I shook my head, 'There's bottles and cans everywhere.'

'I'm sorry Mum, Dad. It was only supposed to be a few of us. And then…' tears start falling from their ducts, sliding down my cheeks.

'Where is he now?' Dad questioned. I knew he wasn't a big fan of my boyfriend, and this incident now only added to his hatred for him. Wiping at the salty liquid, I respond shakily,

'He had to go back to base this morning. He was due on watch this afternoon. I was…' I pause, still fighting back tears, 'I was trying to clean up before you got back. I didn't want you to know.' Dad is the first to respond, his tone leaving no room for argument,

'I have to go out. I expect this place to be immaculate when I get back.'

'Yes Dad,' I reply quietly, flipping the book closed and placing it on the coffee table. Dad storms out of the room, and I hear the front door slam shut. Her eyes shutting at the sound of the door slamming, Mum stays rooted in position, 'We expected more from you Bella. What kind of example are you setting for your younger brother?'

'I'm sorry Mum. It was just supposed to be a few drinks between friends.'

'A few drinks? Need I remind you Bella, you are only seventeen. It's still illegal for you to drink.' I scoff,

'As if you didn't drink when you were my age.' I stare her down, hoping to affect some of that Commander persona she'd used on me so many times previously.

'Not helping your case Bella. I suggest you start cleaning before your father gets back.' She turns to leave the room. Boldly, I call after her.

'You were together before. When you still served together. I found the photos. You talk to me about obeying the rules, but you sure as hell didn't with Dad.' She whips around, her eyes flaring with a mixture of anger and shock. My eyes widen at her reaction and before I can apologise she's in front of me, her gaze level with mine, 'You have no idea what you're talking about, so I suggest you keep quiet and start cleaning.' Nodding mutely, I know I've hit a sore spot and I bend down to pick up my garbage bag from before, throwing empty cans into it. Out the corner of my eye I spot the book still sitting on the coffee table. Its contents have dug up so many questions about my parents past, and I'm dying to have my questions answered. Giving the book one last longing stare, I speak quietly, 'Another story for another day…'


End file.
